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Savage's nostrils flared, sifting through scents that painted the nightmare around him in vivid, vibrating detail. The coppery tang of fresh blood pooling. The acrid bite of ozone from the creature's phase-shifts still lingered in the air. The sweet, sickening odor of cooked meat—human meat—clung to the scorched patches of earth. Beneath it all, the base, musky scent of the Vulpimancer itself: fear-sweat, pain, and a strange, sterile chemical note that tasted like the inside of a machine.
'At least we made it…barely in time.'
The thought echoed in Eren's mind, a hollow consolation as Savage's blind gaze swept the carnage. The vibrating shapes of broken bodies, some still twitching with fading life, were scattered like gruesome dolls. The cadets who huddled at far distance trembling, behind shattered cover emitted frantic, high-frequency heartbeats that thrummed against his senses vigorously.
And before him, trapped against the stone wall by his own diamond cage, was the source of it all.
Even kneeling, pinned, the Vulpimancer was massive. Savage stood maybe four feet tall at the shoulder, a powerhouse of corded orange muscle. The creature before him was easily four times that size; an adult Vulpimancer, a behemoth of bruised purple fur and terrifying, engineered power. Up close, the damage was even more horrifying. The five good eyes that swiveled to fix on him were wide, white-rimmed with an emotion that went beyond animal fear into something eerily familiar: traumatized recognition. The sixth eye, a milky, regenerated orb, pulsed with a sickly internal light. The V-shaped patterns along its spine and legs even while dulled, were still glimmering faintly. But most disturbing was the thing inside. Through patches of fur that had been scorched away or torn, Savage's sonic sight could perceive the vague, writhing outline of the…shiny thing coiled around its skeleton. It looked like a fused living cancer.
A memory, sharp and unwelcome, sliced through Eren's focus.
A Few Hours Earlier – The Southern Road to Trost
The horse's gait was a steady, rhythmic clip-clop that did nothing to soothe the restless energy crackling under Eren's skin. He sat behind Hannes, with Mikasa and Armin clinging on behind them, their little group feeling absurdly small on the vast, empty road cutting through the farmlands of southern Wall Rose. The plan had been simple, almost naïve: head for the main southern garrison post, the hub of military activity for the district. If there was an official response to the "Demon Dog," that's where it would be coordinated. They'd listen, gather intelligence, and then… then Eren would do what he had to.
It was already reaching sunset when the sound reached them first; a distant, sustained thunder that was out of place on the sleepy country road. Hooves. Many of them-too many, moving fast.
"Off the road, now!" Hannes hissed, his Garrison-trained instincts kicking in. He guided their weary mount into a couple of trees beside a dry creek bed. They dismounted, crouching low in the brush as the noises resolved into the sight of a Survey Corps squadron; eight scouts in green cloaks; streaking past in a blur of determined speed. There was no casual trot, no measured patrol pace. This was a full-bore gallop, the horses lathered, the riders leaned forward with an urgency that was palpable even from their hiding spot.
"The Scouts…" Armin whispered, his blue eyes wide. "They're moving like… like they're racing to a fire."
"Or away from one," Mikasa added, her voice low.
Eren's heart hammered against his ribs. The Scouts. The only military branch that regularly faced the unknown beyond the Walls. If they were moving with this kind of desperate haste…
"We should follow them," Eren said, the decision leaving his lips before he'd fully thought it through.
Hannes gave him a weary, sideways look. "Kid, following the Scouts is a good way to end up as Titan bait or on latrine duty for a year. They're not exactly known for leisurely strolls…which is odd why they're moving around in such a hurry."
"They know something we don't," Eren insisted, his gaze fixed on the disappearing cloud of dust. "Maybe…it's about the rumors. They have to. We'll never find it on our own."
It was Armin who nodded, his strategist's mind already working. "You could be right. They're heading deeper into the southern sectors. If the creature is there, they'll lead us right to it. They're our guide."
Hannes muttered a curse that would have made Carla wash his mouth out with soap, but he didn't argue. They remounted and set off, keeping a dangerous but necessary distance, using the Scouts' dust cloud as their north star.
An hour later, fortune; or misfortune; gave them their chance. The Scouts pulled into a small, shaded clearing near a stream for what looked like a hurried water break. The horses were tended to with brisk efficiency; the scouts themselves didn't rest, but stood in a tense cluster, voices carrying on the still air.
Hannes signaled for absolute silence. They left their own horse tethered well back and crept through the undergrowth, finding a vantage point behind a thicket of hawthorn. The words that reached them were fragmented, but chillingly clear.
"…confirmed at HQ. Faces weren't their own. Some kind of… mask technology."
"Spies. In our own ranks. How deep does this go?"
"The 'purge' he kept ranting about… you think it's connected to the demon dog sighting at the 103rd?"
"Has to be. They called it a 'cosmic blight.' Said we were 'meddling.' They're not just hunting it… they're cleansing, erasing at best."
Eren felt the blood drain from his face. Spies? A purge? The Scouts had not only encountered the creature, but they were tangled in some deeper, darker conspiracy. And the epicenter was the 103rd Cadet Corps…a military training ground. That meant-
A twig snapped under Armin's foot.
Eight heads snapped toward the thicket. Eight pairs of hardened eyes scanned the brush. One scout, a man with a squint and broad shoulders, took a step in their direction, hand going to his sword hilt. "What was that?"
Time froze. Eren's hand instinctively went to his wrist, beneath the bandage. He could transform. Inferno? No too obvious. Maybe Blitz. Create a distraction, get them away…
But Hannes, with a panicked ingenuity born of a thousand close calls with MPs, acted first. He dragged the reign of his horse beside him making it neigh.
The squinting scout's face shifted from suspicion to annoyed disbelief. "…A horse?" However the scout stopped his train of thought when he thought he had smelt somebody as well, that was until Hange called out to him.
"Mike, everything okay?"
Said person spared one last glimpse at the bushes before turning back to his group. "Yeah…We need to reach the 103rd before nightfall."
The female scout with glasses nodded her head and addressed the team. "Alright everyone, saddle up and move out"
As the Scouts mounted up and thundered away, the four of them lay in the dirt, hearts still pounding from nearly being caught. When the sound faded, they scrambled back to their horse.
"Spies… a purge…" Eren breathed, the words tasting like ash. "We should have told them. We should have… worked with them."
"And said what, Eren?" Armin asked, his voice urgent but quiet. "'Hello, brave Scouts. I'm a ten-year-old refugee with an alien watch that lets me turn into monsters, and I think I can help?' They'd see you as crazy, or lock you up. Or worse, dissect you to see how the device works."
Hannes nodded grimly, rubbing his face. "The kid's right. Trusting authority with this… with you… is a one-way ticket to a world of hurt. We're on our own."
"But we know where to go now," Mikasa stated, her grey eyes already looking down the road the Scouts had taken.
They followed, but the close call forced them to take a parallel, more overgrown game trail, slowing their progress. As they rode, the argument Eren had been avoiding all afternoon finally surfaced.
"Armin," Eren began, his voice tight. "Back then… you said if we find it, we should try to communicate. With Savage."
"It's our best strategic option," Armin said, adjusting his sling bag. "We don't know its motives. The rumors say it kills, but it also hides, it flees. It scaled Wall Sina to escape, not to attack. What if it's just… scared? Or acting on instinct? Savage's form; it's the same species as the demon dog, or more accurately a vulpimancer. It speaks a language of scent and vibration it might understand. We could learn why it's here. What it wants."
"What it wants?" Eren's voice rose, frustration boiling over. "It kills people, Armin! It was causing havoc and tearing tore apart that noble's estates in Sina! It 'disappears' through walls! How is that any different from—from him?!" He didn't need to say the name. The ghost of Zs'Skayr hung heavy in the air between them. The feeling of violation, of his own body being used as a weapon along with many others, was a wound that had barely begun to scab over.
"We don't know that," Armin insisted, though his own conviction wavered. "We have rumors and panic. We need data. Zs'Skayr was sentient, malicious. This… this could be an animal. A confused, transplanted animal. If we just attack, we might be killing the only creature who can tell us how it got here, or if there are more coming."
"Or we might be giving a monster the chance to tear our throats out," Hannes grumbled. "I'm with the angry one on this. You see a rabid dog; you put it down. You don't ask it how its day was."
Mikasa was silent, but her hand rested on the hilt of her knife, her stance clear.
Armin pressed on though. "Eren, listen to me. If we find it, we can't just attack. We don't know what it is. We don't know if it's like Phantom, if it can be… reasoned with. If it's scared. Our job isn't to be the executioner. Our job is to be the first to understand. That's how we win. Not with more killing, but with knowing."
Eren fell quiet, the conflict tearing at him. Armin's logic was sound, always was. But the memory of Zs'Skayr's cold laughter in his mind, the phantom ache of losing control… it screamed at him to strike first, to eradicate the threat before it could do to others what had been done to him.
Later…
They reached the outskirts of the 103rd training grounds as the last sliver of sun vanished, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and blood orange, tell-tale signs of evening. The main gate was ahead, but something felt wrong. It was too quiet. No chatter, no lights in the barracks. And there was movement near a side access road; figures in Cadet Corps trainer uniforms, but their posture was all suspicious. Too still. Too alert.
"Down," Mikasa whispered, and they dismounted, leading their horse into a thick stand of pines.
Through the trees, they saw it: a heavy wagon, covered in canvas, parked in a secluded loading area. Two of the "trainers" stood guard. And emerging from the woods to meet them were four new figures. These men weren't wearing uniforms. They wore plates of dark, functional armor, unadorned but clearly well-made.
"…Knight armor?" Armin questioned from his hiding spot. This-…This was strange…very strange.
Two of the knights began unloading long, crated objects from the wagon with careful precision. The other two… argued.
"—should have been here at sundown, Gideon," one knight snapped, his voice cultured but laced with irritation. He was taller, leaner, with an air of command. "The schedule is precise for a reason."
The knight addressed as Gideon, a burly man built like a barrel, grunted as he hefted a crate. "The backroads through Rose are a maze of pig trails and peasant hovels, you moron. Unless you wanted the oblivious MPs asking why knights were hauling siege equipment through their territory, we took the scenic route."
A third knight, sharp-faced and wiry, chimed in. "Must you always find something to thwart when he's speaking, Gideon?"
"Want to start a fight on that, Agil?" Gideon growled, setting the crate down with a thud.
"Why you—?!"
"Enough!" The other scout's voice cut through like a whip. "Let's get this over with! Is the primary emitter functional?"
"Aye," Gideon muttered, shooting a last glare at Agil. "The 'Screecher' is ready. The 'Snare' needs to be charged. Give us half an hour."
Eren's blood ran cold. Emitter? Snare…like a trap. These weren't just 'knights'; they were hunters. And they had specialized tools. They came prepared.
It was at that moment that their horse, tired and spooked by the tension, chose to let out a soft, nervous whinny.
Six heads turned in unison. Twelve eyes locked onto their hiding spot. Gideon's hand went to the heavy broadsword at his hip. The two Cadet Corps impostors guarding the wagon drew their blades, moving with a fluid readiness that betrayed their training.
"Shit," Hannes breathed.
Agil's hand went up, and the guards fanned out, hands on weapons. "Show yourselves. Slowly."
Hannes, with a look of profound resignation, stepped out of the treeline, hands raised in a gesture of weary surrender. "Evenin', gents! Sorry to startle you fellas. Me and my… uh… niece and nephews. We're a bit lost. Looking for the, uh… the Miller farm? Heard they had a prize sow for sale." He offered a weak, drunken-looking smile.
The silence that followed was absolute. The lie hung in the air, so transparently awful it was almost insulting. Eren saw Mikasa's subtle cringe. Armin looked at the ground like it was the most interesting piece of material he had ever seen.
Agil stared at Hannes, then his eyes swept over the three children peering out from behind him. His gaze lingered on Eren, on the grimy bandage around his wrist. A flicker of something cold and calculating passed through his eyes.
"A farmer," Agil said, his voice devoid of all warmth. "With children. In full military training grounds. After nightfall." He took a step forward. "You are either catastrophically stupid, or you are lying. Knights. Secure them. Search them."
Gideon grinned, cracking his knuckles. "With pleasure."
As the impostors moved in, Eren's mind raced. He had to act first. His fingers scrabbled at the edge of the grimy bandage on his wrist, trying to tear it free, to get to the dial.
But Gideon was faster. With a speed belying his size, he closed the distance. A massive hand shot out, not at Eren's body, but at his wrist. It clamped down like a vise, pinning Eren's hand against the bandage.
"What's this, then?" Gideon rumbled, his face inches from Eren's. His breath smelled of stale ale and metal. "Hiding a wound? Or hiding something else?"
He yanked Eren forward by the arm, lifting the ten-year-old clear off the ground with terrifying ease. Eren dangled, kicking and snarling, a feral, desperate sound.
"Let him go!" Mikasa's voice was a whip-crack, but one of the impostors had a blade at her throat, holding her back. Armin was pinned by the other. Hannes was struggling, a knife held to his ribs.
"Feisty little runt, aren't you?" Gideon sneered. With his other hand, he began to roughly unwind the bandage. Eren fought harder, but he was a child against a man who could likely bench-press a horse. The cloth fell away, loop by loop.
And there it was. The Omnitrix. The sleek, green-and-black alien device clung to Eren's wrist, its surface gleaming dully in the twilight, the dial's symbols faintly luminous.
Gideon's eyes widened. All trace of mocking humor vanished, replaced by a sharp, bewildered intensity. "What… in the name of the Eternal Forge… is this?" He turned the wrist, examining the device. It was like nothing he'd ever seen—not a trinket, not a bracelet. It was technology that felt otherworldly. "Some kind of… transmitter? A tool? What are you hiding, little fella?"
Eren stopped struggling. He went still, hanging from Gideon's grip. He met the knight's questioning glare, and a grim, defiant smile touched his lips.
"This," Eren spat, his voice tight with pain and fury. "Is me saying… thanks for holding me still."
Before Gideon could process the words, Eren drew his knees up to his chest and, with all the strength his small body could muster, slammed both feet into the center of Gideon's face.
CRUNCH.
The kick connected with Gideon's nose with a sickening, wet sound of cartilage breaking. The big knight bellowed in surprise and pain, his grip instinctively loosening. Eren twisted, yanking his wrist free as he fell. He hit the ground rolling, and in the same motion, his left hand came up and slammed down on the Omnitrix dial.
The green flash was an explosion of silent light in the gloom.
Gideon staggered back, clutching his bleeding nose. "Wha—?!"
Energy erupted, consuming Eren, reshaping him. Bones extended, flesh transformed into interlocking crystal facets, mass multiplied exponentially. In the space of two heartbeats, where a small, furious boy had fallen, now loomed Obsidian.
The two impostor guards stared, their blades wavering. Agil, who had been circling the intruders froze, his jaw slack. Is that who he thinks it is?
Obsidian rose to his full, imposing height, the crystals on his body catching the last of the light. His glowing green eyes fixed first on the man who had held the knife to Mikasa's throat.
His green glowing eyes narrowed.
"Hands. Off."
One crystalline fist shot out. The impostor tried to parry, but his training blade shattered against diamond-hard knuckles. The impact lifted him off his feet and sent him crashing into the wagon wheel with a crunch of wood and bone. He slumped, unconscious.
The second impostor turned to run. Obsidian didn't chase. He stomped a crystalline foot on the ground. A single, sharp diamond shard erupted from the earth directly in the man's path, catching him in the midriff. It didn't impale him, but the force lifted him and flung him sideways into a tree, where he slid down, winded and moaning.
Agil shook out of his stupor, drawing twin, slender blades. He darted in, a blur of motion, his attacks precise and aimed at Obsidian's joints; the more likely weak points. They rang off the crystal like frantic bells, leaving not a scratch. Obsidian turned, almost bored, and backhanded him. The swipe connected with Agil's crossed blades, snapping both and sending the wiry knight spinning into the dirt, where he lay gasping, clutching bruised flesh.
Gideon, having wiped the blood from his face, roared in pure rage. He drew his massive broadsword, a slab of forged steel, and charged, a bull of a man intending to cleave the crystal monster in two. "DIE, ABOMINATION!"
Obsidian didn't dodge. He brought his crossed forearms up in a block.
CLANG-SHATTER!
The sound was deafening. Gideon's renowned strength, enough to break a Titan's skull, met the immutable hardness of Petrosapien crystal. The broadsword didn't just stop; it shattered, exploding into a dozen jagged pieces of shrapnel that embedded themselves in the trees around them. The shockwave of the impact traveled up Gideon's arms, numbing them to the shoulder. He stared, dumbfounded, at the ruined hilt in his hands.
Obsidian looked down at him. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he extended a single, sharp crystal from his index finger and tapped Gideon—now disarmed and vulnerable—squarely on the forehead.
Thock.
It was a gentle tap by Obsidian's standards, but it carried the weight of a blunt hammer. Gideon's eyes rolled back in his head, and he toppled over like a felled oak, hitting the ground with a final, definitive thud.
Silence descended, broken only by the moans of the fallen. Obsidian turned his gaze to the crates.
Obsidian turned his glowing green gaze to the strange crates. One had been cracked open in the scuffle. Inside, nestled in molded padding, was a device of polished brass and dark wood, covered in intricate, glowing etchings. It hummed with a low, powerful energy.
"What… what is this?" Eren's filtered voice boomed.
Agil, still clutching his ribs, stared venomously at the petrosapien. "Tools of divine work. To cleanse the blight. You will not interfere, wretched crystal titan."
Armin darted forward, hesitantly placing his hands on the peculiar device's framing. For some reason…he could understand the device he was looking at. "He…He's not lying. This device, it's made to cause pain."
"You could tell just from looking at it?" Mikasa asked surprised.
Armin averted his gaze, "Just a hunch."
Eren looked from the strange, humming technology to the fanatical knight.
"We have to destroy it." Obsidian growled. "Better safe than sorry."
Agil's head sprang up at that, his widened eyes immediately narrowed in anger. Ignoring his screaming body, he tried getting up to stop whatever plans the crystal behemoth had in mind.
"Don't you dare touch that with you filthy-"
"Alright I think we've had enough of your chatter." Hannes interrupted as he used his boot to kick the shin of the knight making him stumble back to the ground, the garrison wasted no time to plant his boot on his back just to be sure.
Hannes glanced at the kids, "Well don't just stand there, get on with it."
Mikasa didn't hesitate. Her blade, reinforced by her immense strength, stabbed into the device's core. There was a shriek of tortured metal, a flash of dying light, and the hum cut off into an ominous silence. Before Eren himself could move to the other crates, screams; dozens of them; pierced the air around them.
Faint, from over a mile away, carried on the night breeze from the direction of the main training quad.
…Those didn't sound like noises from drills. These were the raw, shredded sounds of utter terror, of agony, of death. They were punctuated by roars that were neither human nor Titan; a deep, guttural, alien sound that vibrated in the chest.
All current actions vanished from Eren's mind, burned away by a white-hot fury. The rumors were true. It was a butcher. Just like Zs'Skayr.
"It's there," Obsidian's voice was a deadly rumble. He turned, the crystals on his body flaring. "I'm ending this."
"Eren, wait!" Armin cried, running forward, heedless of the danger. He looked up at the eight-foot-tall crystal giant, his face pale but determined.
"Remember what I said! Please! Just… consider it. Before you strike. Look at it. Understand."
The plea cut through the rage. Eren looked down at his friend's terrified, hopeful face. He saw Mikasa, who looked about ready to follow him into hell. He saw Hannes, looking at him not as a monster, but as a child he was sworn to protect.
The conflict was a physical pain in his chest.
"…I'll consider it," Obsidian said, the words heavy, reluctant. A promise he wasn't sure he could keep. "Now stay here. Stay safe."
"I'm going with you." Mikasa declared.
"No, you're staying here, where it's safe." Eren proclaimed.
"Then what was the point of us coming out here in the first place?" Mikasa retorted.
"Mikasa, this is a lot more dangerous than it looks, it's a bloodbath out there. You can help Hannes watch over these guys…can you do that for me?" Eren pleaded.
It took some while, but Mikasa relented and nodded her head. Eren nodded back before turned and he leaped into the air with pure crystalline power, shattering the earth where he launched himself, becoming a green comet arcing toward the sound of the slaughter.
Chapter 27-31 are already available on Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom.